


i've been too lonely too long

by satinhorror



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: "characters" may be off, 70's AU, Also this is my first fic, F/F, Fluff, I'm Sorry, Lesbian AU, Mutual Pining, Please be gentle, bear with me, idk how to explain this, katya is on a roadtrip, trixie is kinda like dolly parton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satinhorror/pseuds/satinhorror
Summary: " She comes back a few minutes later with an old battered up guitar. She sings Katya songs about breaking someone’s heart, a town called Bluegrass, and then one that makes Katya want to ask Trixie just who Judy is. But she refrains. Katya reads Trixie some of her poetry, about people that she’s loved. Hoping, really fucking hoping Trixie won’t get disgusted and leave when she realises they’re not about men."or Trixie's a semi-known country singer on tour, and Katya's just driving through America. They meet and listen to sad songs for the sleepless together





	i've been too lonely too long

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So a few things. • this is my first fic, ever. it is literally based a series of 4 text messages i sent my friend the other night at 3 am after watching Dolly Parton's old Barbara Walters interview. The only changes i've done since my sleep-deprived ass somehow came up with this is minor grammar and spelling corrections. • So, the characterisation might be off because the only thing i actually can write is poems (i’m sorry). • This takes place in the 70's, because i romanticise the 70’s & also ‘cause like why not?? I don't think i have anything else to say. Trixie's a semi known country singer, Katya is on a roadtrip, they meet and feelings ensue. I hope yall enjoy the read!!
> 
> EDIT: hello thank you for all the love, i started a part 2 in january when i wrote this but i've been having several meantal breakdowns these past 6 months and just lacked motivation, but i'm now again working on the second part and hopefully it'll be out soon! (this edit was made june 2nd)

When Katya thinks about it, this is it. She’s racing through the dessert in a red cabriolet, just her and a duffle bag of necessities. she’s somewhere between Houston and Phoenix, closing in on Tucson. She’s on the road, kinda like Jack Kerouac, but also kinda not. She’s visited a friend in Florida, and is making her way to another one in San Francisco; and maybe after that, she’ll make her way back to Boston, just maybe. A pair of big square sunglasses shielding her eyes and a houndstooth pattern dress covering, well, not so much skin. Lou Reed’s shouting through the car radio and the sun’s melting the train tracks, making them twirl like a phone cord. a Marlboro cigarette is hanging between slender fingers, her hand resting on the car door, whilst the other’s drumming on the steering wheel in rhythm to  _ Venus in Furs _ . A dusty sign gives promises of  _ A World Class Diner _ and a decent motel  _ “Now with a pool!” _ . Katya takes a drag from her cigarette, and swerves into the parking lot. 

 

Well in the diner she’s met by a hardworking air conditioner, and a jukebox playing Johnny Cash. She sighs, pulls her sunglasses up behind her blunt bangs and sits down by the counter. Orders a milkshake and a slice of cherry pie and eats slowly whilst getting through another chapter of William Burroughs’  _ Naked lunch.  _ With her duffle bag in one hand and another Marlboro in her mouth she gets a room for the night and throws up a few crumpled bills to the receptionist. Mumbles a “Thank you” when she’s given her key. Her room is hotter than hell and though the sun may be close to setting the room’s been heating up all day. Katya thinks about her options. Waste a few hours in what feels like hell, or cool down in the pool? It’s an easy decision and Katya quickly changes into her bikini and opens the windows, hoping the evening breeze will chill her room down. 

 

Katya enters the pool area, sunglasses once again resting on the bridge of her nose, the sun’s setting throwing an endless amount of shades of pink, orange and red across the sky. Along the edge of the pool sits a group of people, not too far from Katya’s age, she pays them no mind wanting nothing more than to drown in the blue. She eases into the water and feels it cool her blood and bones, resting her head against the edge. Wonders to herself if she could have a cigarette in the pool, then scolds herself for the bad habit. She hears a voice, “Ya know, I love your hair”, the vowels dragged out, and she can’t quite place the accent. Katya follows the voice to its owner and realises it comes from the only other woman by the pool, sitting with a group of men. But Katya doesn't see the men, only the woman. She’s sat on the edge of the pool, her blonde hair up in a huge bun on her head. Clad in a pink gingham bikini, her thighs thick and hips almost spilling out from the bikini bottoms, she’s oh so curvy and katya doesn't want to be crude but katya also has to rip her stare away from the woman’s breasts. When she does reach her face her jaw drops. Her eyes are dark and Katya can’t tell the colour from where she is, but she guesses brown, her features are somehow soft and defined at the same time, and her lips. Her lips holds a smile that has to have been carved out by what must have been God. Katya squeezes out a “Thank you”, after realising she’s staring at the woman like a creep. “What’s yous doin’ over there all by yourself”, the woman speaks again, raising a thick eyebrow, “Come over mama!” Katya softly scoffs at the  _ mama _ , but walks over to the woman nonetheless. “Trixie” - she introduces herself as, and Katya likes the way the name makes her tongue moves to pronounce it. Trixie starts talking, and Katya finds out that Trixie doesn't stop talking once she’s started, but Katya doesn't mind. 

 

It turns out Trixie’s a semi-known country singer, who’s on tour, but she dreams endlessly about being something bigger. Katya tells her she’s trying to be a writer but mainly ends up being a waitress. Trixie laughs loudly, like sharp, shattered stars, at katya’s jokes. Tells her about tours that never end, introduces katya to the men around them - her band - who turns out to be a lovely bunch, who ultimately decides to leave them alone after listening to them speak for no more than 20 minutes. Trixie’s fingertips are are light and soft as feathers when she drags her fingers through Katya’s blunt cut, choppy, blonde bob. Slowly untangles the wavy mess whilst they tell each other about their childhoods. Trixie growing up in rural Wisconsin, hours away from any big city. And Katya can finally place her accent. She puts her trust in Katya. Shakily tells her about her stepfather, who really didn't like her, who beat her until she turned blue. “I had to move to my grandparents ’n so. But I s’pose there was good in that. My grandpa was the one who taught me to play guitar, he taught me how to sing. Ya know, without him, I’d be stuck back up north”, Trixie breathes deeply. Katya can see that she’s shaking and takes Trixie’s hands in hers, rubs her thumbs over them. “But you did get out, he must be so proud of you”, Katya whispers and Trixie looks up at her, smiling though her cheeks are stained with tears. 

 

The sun’s long gone and before the cold of the night has a chance to set into their bones, they move to Katya’s room. “I’m sorry”, Trixie says, “I didn't mean to pour my heart out on ya, but I feel like I know you. Must sound like an idiot but, we clicked, didn't we mama”. Katya hides a smile at the _ mamas _ that Trixie throws around, but she can’t help but like how it sounds coming from her. “No yeah we did, don’t be ashamed Trixie, I lost my shame a loong fucking time ago”, Trixie laughs at that and Katya does too. They sit down on her hotel bed, Katya licks her lips and can feel how dry the are, she hopes her crimson lipstick still looks decent. Notices how plump and soft Trixie’s lips are, she almost reaches out to touch them. Trixie asks about her childhood, and Katya tells her about her Russian parents, who moved from Moscow to Boston just before The Cold War started. How it didn't matter that they were professors and spoke perfect english, they were always seen as the immigrants, as the Russian communists, the enemy. Tells Trixie how much they try to hide that they’re Russian, how they never really spoke Russian to Katya and her siblings because it was best that they had as little of a visible connection to their home country as possible. Katya tells Trixie how her babushka almost cries when she’s on the phone with her, because her grandchildren can barely speak their own language. They look at each other, both breathing heavy, it feels like the calm before the storm. Trixie reaches over to Katya and hugs her. They sit like that, just holding each other for quite some time. Katya can feel Trixie’s heartbeat against her own chest, and if feels like she’s found a piece of herself. 

 

“Could you sing me one of your songs”, Katya asks. 

“Really, ya wanna hear one of my songs?”, Trixie looks surprised. “Yeah of course, I can’t help but think you write beautiful songs”. They smile at each other, “Well Kat, I do appreciate that, most fuckers don't even think I write my own songs. But let me tell ya, I do! But a lot of people don't even think I have any brains”. Trixie winks at Katya before leaving the room, she comes back a few minutes later with an old battered up guitar. She sings Katya songs about breaking someone’s heart, a town called Bluegrass, and then one that makes Katya want to ask Trixie just who Judy is. But she refrains. Katya reads Trixie some of her poetry, about people that she’s loved. Hoping, really fucking hoping Trixie won’t get disgusted and leave when she realises they’re not about men. But she stays, praises Katya’s way with words, and Katya blushes and can’t for some reason meet Trixie’s eyes. Trixie rolls Katya’s hair up in curlers - because she always fails when she does it on herself. She smokes another cigarette. They turn on the radio and sing along to Skeeter Davis’  _ “The End of the World” _ , Katya supposes they must be playing sad songs for the sleepless. 

 

“Trixie, do you ever get homesick?”, Katya asks, they’re sitting next to each other and Katya’s drawing never-ending patterns on Trixie’s thigh. Trixie shakes her head no and smiles. “Me neither”, Katya smiles back, and continues, “I suppose we both got restless blood in us”. And she can hear how Trixie’s accent already has made its way onto Katya’s tongue. “I’ll miss ya Katya” “I’ll miss you too”

“You never told me, where are ya goin’?”, Trixie crooks her head whilst she asks. “San Francisco,Ii should be there the day after tomorrow. I’m staying with a friend there, at least for a month”, Katya chips at her nail polish whilst she speaks, it’s a nervous thing, but she can’t understand why she is nervous. “I’m playing there, I mean San Francisco, in ‘bout 2 weeks. Would ya like to come meet me then?” Katya smiles at her, “I’d want nothing more”. They make plans about guest lists and meeting spots and Katya writes down the number to the friend she’ll be staying with, sloppily, on paper with the motels sigil. “Call me, whenever.” Trixie kisses her forehead so lovingly that Katya almost melts, and then they fall asleep on each other.

 

Katya wakes up alone, she sits up, confused, scans the room for traces of Trixie. There’s a note on the nightstand. 

_ “ Katya!  _

_ I had to go, tour calls. I couldn't bring myself to wake you at the ungodly hour I got up!  _

_ I’ll try calling you in 2 days & hope you’re in San Francisco  _

_ love Trixie xx “ _

Katya feels something boil in her stomach, guesses it’s happiness. She balances a cigarette in her mouth whilst taking out the hair curlers, and studies her map-book. She should be able to make it halfway today, stay overnight in Five Points. She looks at herself in the mirror, takes a drag and puts her sunglasses on. 

 

Katya’s long back on Highway 10 when she - unlike Skeeter Davis - understands why the birds sing, Katya thinks she’s in love.


End file.
